Flour and Water
by M.F.D
Summary: On their own, they are little more than elements, like flour and water. But together they make something useful. Something sweet and good. Yuffie/Tseng, introspective and lighthearted. Will undoubtedly contain copious amounts of spazz!Reno.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Flour and Water

Author: Moorish

Disclaimer: Squeenix owns all. Only they're not creative (or insane) enough to do _this_ with it.

Notes: Alright, so anyone who reads the 100 drabbles I write (there are like what, four?) will notice that I've finally written the (gasp!) dreaded het that I hinted at in the summary. It's Yuffie/Tseng. I've never seen anyone write this pairing before, never, not once, even though they're the only two Wutaiin people that you get to take a good, hard look at. And I know that, in groups, people of the same ethnicity tend to gravitate towards each other. I don't know if it's physical or what, but that's the way it is. So, here it is. Crackpairing!fic, by moi.

...

They stick, like flour and water. It is the only thing that Yuffie can think of that seems right. On their own they are little more than elements, decent enough (she supposes), but rather boring. But together they make something useful. Something good and proper that she thinks even her father would be proud of.

It begins, unsurprisingly, in a bar. Not Tifa's bar, not 7th Heaven, because only Reno goes into Heaven on a regular basis and comes out again, whole and alive. Not everyone who frequents that place is a friend of ShinRa. Not everyone there likes the Turks. Yuffie thinks that maybe Cloud has something to do with Reno's continued existence. Cloud, yes, and Tifa, too, because Tifa looks at the redhead with soft eyes sometimes. But that's not the point.

The point is that it isn't Tifa's bar. It's a dive, a hole in the ground better suited to murderers and pickpockets than the future queen of Wutai, but they don't ask questions, and they don't card her.

She sits at the bar with a warm glass of beer in one hand and a shiny new materia in the other. A green, one she took from Rufus while they helped the weakened President out of his wheelchair and into the healing waters of Aeris' pool.

(To be truthful, they'd stripped him, first, just to make sure the water got everywhere it needed to, and maybe she'd ogled a bit, because Rufus ShinRa has always been a very attractive man, even for a Westerner.)

But, again, not the point. The materia rolls between her fingers (which are slightly less than adroit, now that she's pleasantly sloshed), and, almost idly, she tosses the little ball up into the air, intending to catch it as it comes down again…

Only it never comes down.

Yuffie can smell him even before he slides onto the stool beside her. His is an uncomfortable scent, that makes her think of the great palace that waits for her when she returns to Wutai; one that reminds her equally of blood and gunpowder, incense and ritual.

She doesn't want him to be here. Tseng is everything that she is not, everything that her father wishes her to be: powerful but in control, quick-thinking, self-disciplined…

A man.

She knows that Lord Godo would have preferred a son. She also knows that her father's expectations of her are significantly less than those he would have for a boy. Godo has never tried to make her feel bad about her gender, but she feels it nonetheless. That feeling, and that lack of expectation, was what led her to become a thief in the first place. What led her to join Cloud on his suicide mission…

No. Thinking about that is even worse than thinking about Tseng. So she slumps her shoulders and swivels, glaring at him over the rim of her glass. He is, right now, the lesser of two evils.

"Wha'ya wan'," she slurs, and realizes that she is, perhaps, a bit more than sloshed. Shitfaced, she thinks, is a more proper term.

Tseng is as impeccable as ever. His blue suit is crisp and neat, his tie straight, the smooth and glossy fall of his hair slicked back against his skull like black ink. Yuffie wants to touch it, because it looks almost wet in this dim light, and she has to forcefully clamp down on that urge. Her fingers twitch. She wants to steal him.

Best not to think of that. Best not to think of a lot of things.

Tseng's thin lips curl at the edges, and he places the green materia on the bartop.

"I never thought to find you here, princess," he says. Yuffie mouths the rim of her glass, then takes a long sip. She doesn't like being called "princess," and most of her friends know this by now. It is a title she feels she has not earned yet. Maybe once she grows a pair of testicles, she will finally be worthy of royalty. But not now, and she slams the glass back to the bartop with the unpredictable strength of one who is very, very drunk. Then she goes to stand, only she must not manage it very well, because the next thing she knows is that she's falling, and it's Tseng's arms that catch her. "Mmph," she says into his chest. His very firm, gunpowder and cologne smelling chest.

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?" That secret little smile is still there, and his dark eyes glint with a malicious mirth that is common to all Turks. He is very tall, compared to her. She only comes up to his collarbone.

_Aren't you a bit half-blooded to be so attractive?_ That's what goes through her head, and she knows that to say it would be horribly insulting, because no one can help the circumstances of their birth, but it's there, anyways. Fortunately, what comes out of her mouth is only a slurred "Fuuu…" sound. And she's relieved, because she's never thought of herself as being quite that racist before, and she doesn't want it to come to light any more than it has to.

Tseng chuckles, a sound like rolling thunder in her ears, then easily rights her, stands her straight again, and loops his arm around her waist.

"Let's get you home, princess."

She swipes the materia from the bartop before they leave. Even drunk, her priorities are clear. Then she is silent for a while, until they reach the street outside, when she looks at Tseng with (relatively) clear and gimlet eyes and says, "M'not a princess."

The Turk glances at her, but does not seem surprised. He doesn't seem to be anything but amused, really. "Not a princess? And here I thought your father was Lord Godo."

She buries her face in his side. "Is," she mutters. "Jus'…no' ready fer it yet. No' ready fer…fer him."

It's his turn to be quiet, now. She doesn't mind. With the reactors gone, the night air seems so much sweeter. She takes a deep breath and can almost feel her head clear. Just a bit.

"For what it's worth, I think you're ready. Even back then, I thought you were."

She knows what "back then" means, what it means to all of them. Before all this Advent nonsense, back when there was only one madman trying to destroy the world instead of three. Thank Gaia it's over.

Thank Gaia.

"Really?" She tilts her head backwards in order to get a better view of his face, as opposed to the warm curve of his pectorals (nice though those were). His expression is neutral, which doesn't surprise her, but then his eyes flick to hers and she thinks, _Yes._ _He really means it._ It's a high compliment from someone who normally shows all the emotions of a dead man, but Yuffie thinks that this will not be the last. She hopes it will not be the last. Maybe, with someone like Tseng on her side, she can win her father's approval…

Without needing to grow a pair of balls, that is.

...

A.N: I crave feedback. Give me feedback and I'll write more.

Well, I was gonna write more anyways, but I'll write it faster! Ideas are appreciated, too. Yuffie seems like the type to concoct some crazy, harebrained scheme to attract Tseng's attention. However, I'm not terribly good with concocting harebrained schemes. So, ideas. Yes. Send them. :3


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Flour and Water

Author: Moorish

Disclaimer: Squeenix owns all. Only they're not creative (or insane) enough to do _this_ with it.

Notes: Chapter (?) 2. It doesn't really feel like chapters. More like little snippets. Oh well. I have determined that Flour and Water is a part of the Bottlesverse. "Bottles" is both a 100 drabble and a longer oneshot on . I have determined that, in the Bottlesverse, Reno and Sephiroth were an item, Zack and Cloud were once an item, Yuffie and Tseng are doing a complicated mating dance around each other, Tifa and Cloud are currently together and Vincent is on a desperate quest to find some nookie. So far "Tan," the "Bottles" fic and drabble, and Flour and Water are part of the Bottlesverse. I make everything complicated! :O

...

"…and I like him, I really do, though not as much as I hate him of course…"

Vincent eyes the chattering ninja with a heretofore-unknown level of annoyance. He wants to shake her. Wants to push her head down somewhere between her feet and make her stop and think for a minute instead of yammering on. More than anything, he wants her to be quiet while he thinks. But…

Yuffie needs. She needs someone to talk to, to listen to and commiserate with her. And for whatever reason she has chosen him as the most likely to understand. Perhaps because he is the only one who never treats her as a child; perhaps, simply, because he never interrupts. Either way, it is a precious offering to someone who has gone so very long without human contact. Vincent huffs quietly and tries to let go of his animosity. Yuffie sees him as her friend, and he never wants her to think otherwise. Children, after all, are so easily molded by their companions. Or their lack of them.

"Have you tried just talking to him?"

Yuffie stops in mid-rant and gives him a Look. Vincent, who hasn't really been paying all that much attention to the conversation in the first place, Looks steadily back. He has a vague notion that this is about a boy, possibly even a man (and why does that idea seem so worrisome?). Yuffie is eighteen, and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but Vincent is suddenly filled with an inexplicable feeling of dread.

Later, he will realize that it was not worry for Yuffie that filled him, but rather a sense of pity for the man that held her interest.

Yuffie is still Looking at him. But then something seems to click, and her face brightens with a wide grin. "You really think, Vinny? You really think he'd listen?"

Vincent hesitates briefly, and then shrugs one shoulder. It's important to be noncommittal, especially when you don't know what the hell you're talking about.

Yuffie's smile falters, and she hangs her head, sighing. "Yeah…I hear ya, Vin. He's kinda unpredictable. Maybe if I sent him a letter or something…"

She brightens once again. "Yeah! A letter! Something anonymous! It'll be like…like a secret admirer!" Her eyes sparkle, and Vincent somewhat uncomfortably notes that it is the same kind of sparkle as when she is getting ready to steal something. He does not have time (nor the inclination) to comment, because Yuffie stands, then, and presses a quick, feather-light kiss to his cheek. Vincent feels himself shiver. He thinks that he will never quite get used to how familiar Yuffie is, how physical, no matter the person.

"Thanks, Vin! You're the best!"

And then she bounds away.

Vincent relaxes, now that his company has vanished, the tension rolling out of his shoulders and back like water. He can feel, in the place in his mind that is reserved solely for Chaos, a sort of rumbling, itching sensation that he recognizes, after a moment, as laughter.

"Oh, shut up," he mutters, and resolves to get laid before the month is over.

...

Oh, poor Vincent. There's like a billion fangirls out here that would kill for the chance to jump your bones. Too bad they can't reach you.

Reviews! I like reviews. Yummy. 3


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Flour and Water

Author: Moorish

Disclaimer: Squeenix owns all. Only they're not creative (or insane) enough to do _this_ with it.

Notes: Woo! Pumping 'em ouuut... -does the funky dance!- Thanks to moonstarlight, who keeps reviewing! I'm amazed at the dedication. Also, impressed and flattered! I'm really beginning to like this pairing. And can't you just see Reno going through everyone's mail? XD The bolded parts are supposed to be where Yuffie scratched out words, since FF won't let me use strikethroughs. ToT

...

Tseng looks at his desk. Then he looks at Reno and Rude, who are (shamelessly) rummaging through the basket that has been left there. According to Elena, the only one who was on floor duty about an hour ago, the delivery had been made by a smirking Cloud Strife. Strife, unable to keep himself from snickering when he handed it over, had refused to say who it was from. And Elena, perhaps sensing a chance to make her boss's life miserable, had not pushed the question.

And now Tseng has a basket. He has yet to work up the nerve to see precisely what is inside it.

"Ah!"

Reno pulls his hands quickly from the confines of the little wicker container, his fingers throbbing bright red. Clamped firmly up to the second knuckles of his left hand is a steel mousetrap, though it looks more like the kind you'd use to combat mako-enhanced rats than anything else.

While Rude is busy prying the trap from Reno's fingers, Tseng moves closer, slowly and carefully, and lifts the basket's lid. Inside there are several more mousetraps (all of them loaded, and he looks back over his shoulder at Reno's pouting, wincing face and grins) and a sealed envelope, all comfortably nestled in...

"Damn…You do a little something extra for Rufus lately, boss-man?"

Rude makes a quiet sound of agreement, but Tseng's only response is to thrust his elbow back into Reno's gut. While the redhead doubles over coughing he reaches into the basket and begins removing the traps, one by one, from the bed of materia in which they lay. They are all colors, save for red (of course, the summons no longer work), and many of them even look to be mastered.

There are eight traps in all, including the one that is now clipped to the bloody-red, trailing mass of Reno's ponytail. Tseng wonders what to do with them, then shrugs and hands them off to Rude.

Rude, who is Reno's partner. Who works, parties, eats and sleeps with Reno.

Who shares everything with him.

Everything.

_Fuck_.

Too late, he turns back to retrieve the traps and finds the other two Turks are already gone. He knows, instinctually, that he will regret this later. (He is not wrong, but at least he will get a laugh out of it as well.)

But there is no use crying over spilled milk, so he sits and stares unwaveringly at the envelope that had been buried amongst the materia and the mousetraps. It's a plain white envelope with his name scribbled on the front, with no address and no stamp, and that leads Tseng to believe it's from someone who knows Strife. And, quite possibly, someone who knows _him_. Knows him well enough, at least, to send the package through Elena, who makes sure that her sometimes too-busy boss checks his mail, come hell or high water.

He picks the envelope up, studying it meditatively. His name, he realizes, is not scribbled across the front. It's actually a rather elaborate form of cursive, one with far more loops and whorls than strictly necessary, but pretty for all its extravagance. It is not immediately obvious whether the writer was a man or a woman.

_Please don't let this be from Elena…_

It would explain why Strife wasn't forced to explain himself. And he knows that Elena had, at one point, some sort of hopelessly useless crush on him.

But it doesn't explain the materia.

So, quickly, and before he can change his mind, he opens the envelope.

Nothing explodes, which is always a good sign, and there doesn't appear to be perfume, or glitter, or lipstick on the letter inside, which is also a Good Thing. So he extracts the letter takes a better look.

The writing is sprawling, and he cannot help but think that the person must be very laid-back indeed to have such casual penmanship. There are words crossed out, and it seems like almost a dozen at first glance, as if whoever wrote it wasn't even sure they should be sending it in the first place. He smiles, slightly, and begins to read.

_Dear Tseng,_

_I'm pretty sure these are all the materia __**I've st** __**I've take**__ you've lost over the past two years or so. _

His first thought is that it is someone who was a member of AVALANCHE, because Gaia knows they've taken enough of ShinRa's materia over the years. But most of them are dead, now, save for Strife and his friends, and it's likely that none of them hold Rufus and his men in any high regard after all they've been through, which makes it unlikely that any of them would be returning anything, let alone a fortune's worth of materia. He continues down the page.

_I just want you to know that __**I like y**__ you mean more to me than they do. Even if they are mastered._

Aha. He'd thought so.

_I've never done anything like this before but I think you're probably worth it._

_Hugs and kisses and lots of materia,_

_A.S.A_

_Well, _he thinks. _This is certainly different._

One thing is for sure. It's not from Elena, and Tseng breathes a sigh of relief.

That is, until he hears Rufus' bellowing and the distinctive snapping of mousetraps from the hall, at which point he puts his head down on his desk and prays for the sweet, sweet release of death.

...


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Flour and Water

Author: Moorish

Disclaimer: Squeenix owns all. Only they're not creative (or insane) enough to do _this_ with it.

Notes: More Yuffentine kinda-sorta UST! I like writing these two interacting, but I can't really see them together. Sorry Y/V fans! She's way too young and perky, and he's too old and jaded, and I don't think the whole "they compliment each other" thing would work. But I think there's a little spark there, the same as there'd be between any attractive man and woman.

...

"…I left him this letter and a neato little gift basket…Oh! And Cloud was nice enough to deliver them for me…"

Over the past few years, Vincent has learned much about Yuffie. He knows details both trivial and important, such as how she likes seafood more than she likes red meat, and how she becomes both determined and single-minded when she decides that she wants something.

He is sure that Tseng will very quickly become aware of this last quirk.

He has also learned that Yuffie has little concept of personal space and almost no modesty. His prior knowledge of this fact is the only thing that is keeping him from snapping, snarling, or otherwise hurting the girl's feelings. Vincent mutters under his breath and turns the water off, staring resolutely at his bathtub.

Before Hojo he had considered himself something of a hedonist, and something about the act of soaking in a tub of steaming-hot water always struck him as being one of the most sinfully delightful things he could do for himself. One of the reasons why he has remained in Edge in the first place is because of the apartment he found.

Single bedroom. Small kitchen, small living room, one bathroom. It's a Spartan enough lifestyle to make a hair-shirted monk wince, but Gaia help him, the tub is like a fucking pool.

"And you should have seen Reno's face! He reached right into…"

Vincent half-turns and tilts his head at Yuffie. She's perched on top of the counter, next to the sink and medicine cabinet (which does not actually contain medicine, but rather a loaded pistol), and shows no inclination towards moving. There is nothing to be done; even if he asked her, even if he demanded that she leave, would she?

He thinks the answer is no.

So he strips. Yuffie's sudden (and slightly awestruck) silence makes him feel a little smug, a little wary. Nude, he climbs into the tub and sinks down beneath the water, eyes hooded and blissful. He cards his fingers through his hair, thick as midnight as it fans out across his shoulders.

"…so anyways, Reno stuck his hand right in one of the traps, and…"

Steam wisps about his face. Yuffie's voice washes over him, and now that he's actually in the tub it's not so bad anymore. Almost relaxing. He makes soft, noncommittal noises as she speaks; he's happy for her, as much as he can be with his own love dead and gone. He feels no resentment towards Tseng, or any of the Turks for that matter, and he is hard-pressed to think of someone who will take better care of Yuffie.

If her feelings are reciprocated, that is.

"So what do you think I should do next, Vin?"

He rolls his head to the side, feeling his neck creak. The hot water is doing wonders for the tension in his muscles. Yuffie's eyes are huge and dark in the muted bathroom light and he thinks (not for the first time) that if he were a younger man, a softer man with no past loves, he wouldn't mind trying to make her forget Tseng and see how dark her eyes could really get against the white coolness of his sheets. But he is not that softer man, and no matter how ardent his body, he thinks that he will never be able to put his heart so fully into something again.

She is still waiting for his answer, and Vincent takes a few moments more. Tseng is not all that different from him, when he was younger, so he thinks of what he would have liked, had he been pursued by someone as vivacious and lovely as Yuffie.

"…You know what kind of gun he favors?"

Yuffie grins, nodding enthusiastically, and Vincent is relieved. If there is one thing that can be counted on in the world, it is that Turks will always be crazy about their weapons.

They spend the next hour or so discussing the pros and cons of various firearms, Vincent drifting sedately about in the bathtub as he tries to get more comfortable and Yuffie bouncing excitedly on her countertop perch.

Finally, the ninja slides down from the counter and arches her back. Her vertebrae pop like balloons and Vincent winces in sympathy. She stretches her legs, and then meanders towards the door.

"Thanks Vincent. I mean it." The smile she gives him is fleeting, graceful and electric. Somehow melancholy. Perhaps, like him, she'd had thoughts in the past. If he were softer, or if she were just a bit older and wiser. There is no use dwelling on it now. He watches her disappear into the hallway, then tilts his head back and sighs. The water is almost entirely cool now.

But before he can stand to get out, Yuffie pops her head back through the doorway. Vincent quickly settles back down into the water.

"By the way…" Her grin is sparkling, almost radiant. Completely fucking devious, and Vincent forces down a surge of fear.

She throws him a saucy little wink, and Vincent, contrary to his sense of impending doom, feels a sharp thrill of heat run straight from his brain to his groin.

"…Nice booty you're packing, Vin." And then she is gone again, her peals of laughter seeming to echo in the otherwise empty apartment.

Vincent thinks that it might be best if he remains in the tub…at least until he is sure that both Yuffie, and his now burgeoning erection, are gone.

...

A/N: SCREAM IF YOU WANT MORE.

Yuffie: HOORAY! SEXY MANBUTT.

Tune in next time for suspicious-yet-intrigued Tseng and SPAZZTASTIC Reno!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Flour and Water

Author: Moorish

Disclaimer: Owned by Square Enix. But oh how I wish.

...

Tseng has known and worked with Reno for a number of years now. He's a good man, a hard worker (when he feels like it), a talented hacker (again, when he feels like it) and has managed to turn himself into a valuable member of the Turks, never mind any previous evidence to the contrary. But despite the years they've worked together, Reno still manages to constantly surprise him.

Surprises, one must remember, are not always good things.

"Reno, I'm almost afraid to ask, but why are you rummaging through my office?"

The redhead ducks down for a moment, reaching for some item beneath the Turk Leader's desk. He doesn't appear to have heard (or if he has, he doesn't care to respond), so Tseng picks up the glass paperweight that Elena gave him last year, leans over the desk, aims carefully, and drops it.

"Agh!"

Reno shoots up from the floor like a bottle rocket, rubbing his head and looking mournful. "Fuck, boss-man! That really hurt! You know, you coulda given me a concussion or somethin'…"

Tseng sighs, then grabs Reno by his trailing ponytail and pulls his head forward. "Reno, I honestly don't care whether I've given you a concussion or cancer; I want to know why you're _in my office_."

A blink. "You can give people cancer?"

"Reno."

"Alright! Christ, lighten up." A huge, cat-got-the-canary grin spreads across thin lips and Tseng tenses as Reno sticks out one long leg and hooks something from beneath the desk. He picks up what appears to be a lockbox, hefting it in one hand.

"I was just trying to figure out your _secret admirer's_ latest present."

Tseng grits his teeth at the way Reno says it, giving his ponytail one more warning yank before taking the box and examining it.

It is, as he originally thought, a lockbox. Tseng has not yet met a lock, mechanical or electronic, that Reno cannot both pick and disassemble within an hour, but this one seems to have stumped him. Tseng eyes it thoughtfully; the dial's face contains, not numbers, but letters, and he's intrigued.

Reno coughs, and he pulls his attention almost reluctantly from the lock. The redhead is holding out a folded piece of paper, looking sheepish and a bit sullen.

"I couldn't read it," he says, and Tseng is not at all surprised. Reno, after all, has made it a habit to go through the mail of every person he knows at least once a week. He calls it being proactive; everyone else calls it snooping.

Tseng sets the lockbox down on his desk and takes the paper, unfolding it. His brow furrows as he reads, and then he smiles. Reno, who becomes paranoid at the sight of any of his superiors smiling, takes a cautious step back, but all Tseng does is shake his head. It is no wonder that Reno could not read the letter. Tseng finds himself reaching out, tracing the graceful strokes with one finger, the wuzi characters as clear to him now as they were when he learned them as a child. He sets the paper down and turns his attention back to the lockbox. Reno watches him as he fiddles with the dial, turning it this way and that. Four letters, but that's all Reno can figure out before the lock clicks open and falls away. And then Tseng is opening it, and…

"Holy fuck, that's a big gun."

The Turk Leader lifts the handgun out of the box with a reverence normally reserved for holy relics. He dances his hands over it, pulls back the slide and sights it with his finger just barely resting on the trigger. Reno swallows. He's not sure if the thing is loaded or not, and he's intimidated enough to not want to chance it, but even so he inches a bit closer in order to get a better look.

"Beautiful," Tseng breathes, his expression powerfully reminiscent of one who has died and gone to the Promised Land. "A .454 WN Antares Super, with a 120 millimeter barrel, eighteen round magazine and an effective range of up to 80 meters _without_ mako enhancement."

The gun lowers and Reno breathes a sigh of relief. He's sure it's a great gun and all, but he's never been one for firearms. He backs towards the door, hands out and fingers splayed in the universal gesture of 'please don't kill me, I didn't realize you were batshit.'

"Yeah," he says, haltingly. "I'm just gonna…go bother Elena for a while. Give you and the BFG there some alone time."

And then he skedaddles.

Tseng watches him go, mostly bemused, still slightly awed by the gun he now holds to his chest. His thoughts turn back to the letter and he smiles for the second time that day, recalling what it says.

_Dear Tseng,_

_You have no idea how hard it was to get one of these things! I had to __**ste borro **__look all over for it. It was worth it, though, if you like it as much as __**V **__my friend says you will._

_I put a lock on it because I didn't want Reno going through it like he did with the basket. I'm pretty sure he won't figure out the clue! But you will, 'cause you're __**amaz spec mine **__smart like that._

_Alright, here's the clue!_

_What's the place where, no matter what, they always have to take you in?_

_XOXO,_

_A.S.A_

_P.S._

_Ammo's beneath the lining._

Tseng sits at his desk and wonders at the strangely light feeling in the hollow of his chest. He looks at the letter for a long time, longer, perhaps, than he should.

_Wutai_, he thinks.

_Home._

...

A/N: Oh shit, it's seriously been like a month since I last updated this. MAJOR SUCK for me. Here's some Guns & Romance to make up for it (lulz stupid joke).

Again, I picture Reno as a total mailsnoop. Poor Reno! Scary Tseng has a new gun! Don't worry, Rude will make it all better.

Alright, so one of the reasons this is so late is because I don't know a thing about guns and I went on a mad spree of learning. Makes for interesting conversation starters.

(Family: -quietly eating dinner-

Me: -BURSTS IN- I need to know how to operate a handgun!

Family: -silence-)

True story. But I love coming up with realistic weapons, so some info on Tseng's new gun: semi-automatic pistol loosely based on the stats of the SIG Pro SP 2022 only with manual safety. As far as how it looks, find a picture of the Type 64 silent pistol, which was used by the Chinese military in the 1960s or so. They're scary lookin'.

BTW, there's a reference to Joudama's awesome fic "The Things You Never Knew About People" in here. Go read that and then see if you can spot it!


End file.
